The Way You Are
by chris400ad
Summary: After the attack on the Ministry Harry Potter had never felt more alone, more isolated. The weight of the Prophecy on his shoulders. Little did he know that that night would spark new friendships that would turn his world on its head. Idea was given by Spectre4hire. AU
1. Prologue

**AN: This story idea was given to me by Spectre4hire, all I've done is bring it to life. Would like to thank him for giving me the chance to write as I think it's a great story. I hope you do too. I don't own Harry Potter.**

Prologue

Hogwarts shone against the dark night sky, clouds eclipsed the stars and the half-moon making the castle's lights even brighter than usual, the only colour on a dark canvas. They shimmered against the mirror-like surface of the Black Lake. Darkness engulfed the grounds, shadows curling around the rocks that stood on the lake's shore shying away from the little light that shimmered on the lake. Hagrid had long since retired for the night, the lights of his hut extinguished. But despite the darkness the grounds were not empty; Harry Potter sat on one of the many rocks that surrounded the lake, staring into its depths.

Somehow, he wasn't sure; he had ended up by the Black Lake. He hadn't been able to face going to the Hospital Wing where he knew the fate of his friends now lay. Dumbledore had told him they would be fine but that didn't stop the guilt that had settled in the pit of his stomach, like the flakes of an impending snowstorm, and threatened to overwhelm him. It was his fault, they wouldn't have been near the Ministry if he hadn't been so stupid, none of them, Ron, Hermione... Sirius, who had been safe in Grimmauld Place, out of Voldemort's reach. If it hadn't been for him Sirius would still be alive instead of falling through that veil.

Sirius.

Tears, unbidden and unwanted, filled Harry's eyes, it was his fault. No matter what Dumbledore said, trying to shift the blame onto himself, Harry knew the truth, it was not Dumbledore's fault it was he, Harry, who had fallen into Voldemort's trap and dragged Sirius into the firing line. He tried to calm his breathing and the guilt that tore at his insides but there was no stopping it, the only family he had left was gone and he was to blame. Every fibre of his body hurt.

He let out a shaky sigh, brushing the tears, which clung to his cheeks, away roughly. Distractedly he snatched up pebbles that lay scattered on the rock below him before tossing them at the mirror-like surface of the lake, shattering the illusion in an instant, giant ripples raced across the lake as the pebbles plunged underneath the surface. His mind wandered as he continued to throw the pebbles, not caring that they didn't skip across the surface.

How much longer would he feel so empty? How much longer would he be gawked or ridiculed by the world around him? How much longer could he carry the weight of a world on his shoulders? How much more could he sacrifice? Questions raced through his mind, each more demanding than the last, but no answers sprang to mind, he felt nothing but pain. He let the pebbles fall through his fingers, scattering on the rocks he sat on and falling into the darkness. A darkness that Harry felt was consuming his life.

"'Arry?"

Harry would recognise that voice anywhere. He turned to see the Beauxbaton Tri-Wizard Champion walking slowly towards him. He found it odd to see her dressed in anything other than her school robes, wearing instead a thin blue blouse and jeans. In the moonlight she looked even more beautiful than usual. Her silvery blonde hair fell past her shoulders, a few stands framing her pale face, complimenting her icy blue eyes perfectly. Eyes, which Harry, like many others, had thought were cold but could now see the hidden warmth in their depths. She had an unnatural beauty that most women would die for and most men would drool over.

"Fleur?" Harry asked, trying, and failing to hide his confusion.

"'Ello, 'Arry, eet 'as been too long."

"A year," Harry answered, another pang of pain jolting in his stomach as he remembered the terrible events of the end of the Tournament, more death and destruction. How much longer could it go on? He tried to banish is from his mind, forcing a smile on his lips as Fleur joined him on the rock, her smile fading as she looked at him.

"Are you okay, 'Arry?" Fleur asked softly, her smile replaced with a concern, real, genuine concern.

"I'm fine," Harry said quickly, trying to push his thoughts to the back of his mind, just as he had done while Snape assaulted his mind. She nodded, not pushing him any further, though he could tell she didn't believe him but he was glad she didn't ask him anymore, he didn't think he could take much more.

Silence ballooned out between them and Harry returned to staring out at the Black Lake, but the pain now felt somehow dimmed because unlike before he was no longer alone, it was feeling he had only ever felt with Ron or Hermione, knowing that someone was there that would listen. Fleur had come to find him, not the other way round, for Harry that was enough, more than enough. "'Arry, may I ask you somezzing?"

"Sure,"

"Why did you do eet?" Fleur asked, her voice changing slightly, the concern that had filled it moments before being replaced with curiosity, though it lost none of its friendliness. "Last year. Why did you save 'er?"

Harry didn't need to ask who Fleur was talking about, Gabrielle, her sister. The sister, that Harry, under the impression that she was in mortal danger, had saved. Under the water, surrounded by mere-people and the clue reverberating in his ears, he had thought that she was in danger, that she would be lost if not saved once the hour was up. The judges had called it 'moral fibre' but Harry, even after his high score, knew he had been stupid to take the clue so literally.

"I took the clue seriously," he answered after a moment. "I thought she'd be stuck down there."

"Eet was vairy noble of you to save 'er zen, 'Arry."

"No it wasn't," Harry argued, remembering, with another twist of guilt in his stomach, how the attitude that had propelled him to rescue Gabrielle had thrown Sirius in harm's way. "She wasn't in any danger, none of them were."

"'Arry, you weren't zee only one who took zat clue seriously." Fleur said, her voice so hushed now that her words were almost lost in the soft breeze. "I thought I 'ad lost 'er down zere, zat I was never going to 'er again. But zen you came up, 'Arry, not just with your 'hostage but with mine. I won't forget zat, 'Arry."

"Anyone else would have done the same," Harry replied, uncomfortable with the praise she was giving him. Praise always made him uncomfortable but that night especially because that night he did not deserve praise. "It was nothing."

"Non, it wasn't. Ze ozzers did not do ze same, 'Arry, zey left with just zier 'ostages but you stayed. You 'ave a good 'eart, 'Arry, don't forget zat."

"I'll try," he replied, forcing a small smile to reflect Fleur's. They fell into a comfortable silence, Harry couldn't think of anything to say but in that moment he didn't want to say anything, he just wanted to sit there with Fleur because while she was with him he was not left to focus on his thoughts.

"Zey are worried about you," Fleur said, her smile fading slightly as she looked again at Harry, worry flickering in her blue eyes. "Your friends."

"You've seen them?" Harry asked quickly, the fate of his friends had been on the forefront of his mind since he had avoided the Hospital Wing. Questions filled his mind, part of him wanted to know if they were okay, if Madam Pomfrey would be able to heal their wounds, but part of him did not because he didn't want to know that she couldn't.

Fleur nodded, "with Bill and his family, zey are fine, 'Arry, zey should be out in a few days."  
A wave of relief washed over Harry, they were going to be okay, even Hermione, who had suffered worst of all. They were going to be fine. The words echoed around his mind, lifting some of the guilt that had settled in his heart.

"I hope so," Harry found himself saying, for the first time that night, a smile pulling at his lips. They were going to be alright. But underneath all the relief that was cascading over him he realised just what she had said and it only made his smile grow wider. "Bill? You're dating Bill?"

"Qui," Fleur nodded, though her smile, while happy, somehow didn't reach her eyes. "We met at Gringotts. Though I wish 'is family would be as 'appy for us as you are, 'Arry. Zey do not like me vairy much."

"The Weasleys?" Harry asked, a little shocked, somehow unable to believe what Fleur was saying. He had known them since he was eleven and every time he had been there they had been more than welcoming, treating him like family, he couldn't imagine them to dislike anybody without good reason.

"Qui, especially 'is muzzer and 'is sister. Zey zink Bill can do better zan me." It was clear in her voice just how deep her fears ran, how much she wanted their approval. The smile faded off Harry's face as he looked at Fleur, he knew how she felt; it was the same fear that had gripped him when he had come to Hogwarts. "I wish zere was somezzing I could do to change zeir minds."

"Just try and be yourself," he said softly trying to give her a consoling smile, after all it had work for him, whenever he had been round the Burrow Mrs Weasley had welcomed him with open arms, maybe all Fleur needed was time. "They'll come around," He couldn't understand why Mrs Weasley and Ginny were so opposed to Fleur. However they imagined her couldn't be further from the truth, she was far better than most people, because most people wouldn't be out in the cold consoling a person they barely knew. Most people wouldn't be with him right now.

"I 'ope you are right, 'Arry."

"Me too," from what he had seen of Fleur she really did care for Bill and what his family thought about her, she deserved better and Harry had expected her to be treated better, he still couldn't quite believe that Mrs Weasley would react like that to Fleur.

"You are vairy sweet, 'Arry," Fleur said with a smile that, this time, reached her ice blue eyes, making them sparkle in the moonlight. It was in that moment that Harry realised he had rarely seen Fleur smile. When she had been the Beauxbaton Champion she had always been calm and collected, sometimes distant. He much preferred her as she was now, away from the pressures of representing her school, with a smile on her face.

"Thanks," he muttered, as his eyes met hers. "For tonight I mean, thank you."

"Zere eez no need to zank me, 'Arry," Fleur assured him. "We are friends, no?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, a genuine smile pulling at his lips. Before tonight he had never thought he had friends outside of Hermione and Ron, never even dreamed that it was possible. But Neville, Luna, Ginny and even Fleur had proven him wrong, despite the pain that gripped his heart a small glow of happiness burst inside him which, before her words, would have been muffled by his grief. It was still there, still threatening to crash over him but it wasn't the only thing that burned inside him, not anymore. "Yeah we are."

Fleur looked like she was about to say something else when another voice interrupted her, a voice Harry recognised as Bill Weasley's. "Fleur! There you are!" Harry turned, behind him stood Bill a grin plastered on a face that Harry had feared would be full of anger. He hurried towards them, his hair running out behind him, the ponytail that usually kept it in place had been abandoned, probably when he had rushed to the Hospital Wing in the dead of night as Harry knew it now must be, he had lost track of time in the Ministry.

"Dumbledore thought you might be out here. Hi Harry, how are you feeling? I heard about Sirius..." he trailed off as his eyes fell on Harry, concern and worry filling them.

"I'm fine, Bill," Harry said quickly, grief filled pain twisted at his heart once more; he did not want to talk about Sirius. He knew that Bill was only trying to help, that he was only concerned, but that didn't stop the grief that filled him. Nothing could stop it but he did not want it to consume him again, at least, not that night. "Thanks."

Bill nodded, but he could not understand and Harry knew it, for his family was not gone out of reach, his family was still alive unlike Harry's. Bill turned to Fleur, who, like Harry, had risen at the sound of Bill's voice. "Madam Pomfrey reckons we should go, Mom and Dad are staying with them though, there's not a lot we can do now apart from wait."

"But she thinks they'll be okay?" asked Harry, despite himself, he had to be sure that his friends were alright, that they were safe. "Doesn't she?"

"They'll be fine," Bill assured him. "Don't worry about them, Harry, you'll see them soon enough. By the way, Pomfrey wants you in there tomorrow so as she can check you over she would've come and got you earlier but Dumbledore told her not to. She wasn't happy about it."

Harry groaned but nodded, he hated going to the Hospital Wing. No matter how hard he tried to avoid it he always seemed to end up in one of the beds, usually the same one, Madam Pomfrey probably saved it for him. "I'll see her in the morning." Harry said with a sigh, at least he would be able to see his friends, even if that did mean swallowing another of the matron's potions.

"Good plan," Bill grinned, patting him on reassuringly on the shoulder before turning to Fleur. "Are you ready to go? I can wait in the castle if you want."

"No, we can go now, I just wanted to see 'Arry before we left." She turned back to Harry and before he could say anything she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a comforting, warm hug unlike those he got off Hermione or Mrs Weasley, hugs that left him gasping for air afterwards. This was full of warmth, just as her smiles had been, and without even realising Harry hugged her back. After a brief moment she pulled away and stepped towards Bill, taking the hand that he offered her. "Goodbye, 'Arry, I shall see you soon."

With a final wave she and Bill turned into the darkness leaving Harry on the rocky shore of the Black Lake, but unlike before he no longer felt alone.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Thanks for the reviews, faves, follows, I'm glad so many people like this so far. Bit of a heads up. I won't be writing pretty much anything for about a month, hectic life at the moment, so this will be the last update for a while. I can't apologise enough, but rest assured I'll be writing again soon. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Chapter 1: Summer's Day

The morning sun shone through the orchards trees, the early morning glow made the Weasley's garden look as though it belonged on a postcard, despite the many unkempt plants and bushes that flourished in the garden and the gnomes that fought over the food that had been left out for the chickens by Mrs Weasley. To Harry Potter, who was looking out of his bedroom window, it was one of the most beautiful sites in the world, a haven far away from Privet Drive. The place had its own kind of charm that was indefinable even to Harry who had spent more than a few of his summers there. But, he supposed, that was the point, the house was chaotic and indefinable in itself. It was the exact opposite of Privet Drive and that was what Harry loved about the place.

A content smile spread across his face, it was good to be back. A warm feeling spread across him as he turned away from the window, even though he had been at the Burrow for a few days he was enjoying not being locked away in his room avoiding his relatives as best he could with only Hedwig for company. Now, however, he was not alone. Harry could not believe his luck, after only two weeks of solitude at the Dursley's he had been rescued by Dumbledore and didn't have to see them again for another year. Never before had he escaped so quickly, his dark mood had evaporated, a sense of happiness overtaking it as he sat on his bed eating the toast that Ron had bought up that morning before announcing that him and the others were having a Quidditch game in the garden, if Harry wanted to join in. Despite it being their sixth game of the summer already Harry had agreed straight away, the one thing he'd missed more than the castle had been Quidditch. After his 'life-time ban' from Umbridge he had wanted to fly more than ever and even after six games the desire had not dimmed.

After his breakfast he hurried downstairs, encountering nobody on the way down the many stairs of the Burrow. Most of the house would be in the garden or else at work, Mrs Weasley had set about going through some of the products she had salvaged Fred and George's room after Hermione's irremovable black eye. He headed for the kitchen before going to fetch his Firebolt from the broom shed, intent on dropping off the plate that Ron had bought him that morning but when he entered the room he stopped dead in his tracks the plate forgotten.

None other than Fleur Delacour sat at the kitchen table a morose look on her beautiful face. She had not noticed Harry; instead she was staring out of the window despite the book that lay open on the table in front of her. Now he knew why she had been so happy to see him the morning that he had arrived, she was lonely. Evidently the Weasley's were just as unwelcoming as they had been at the end of last year, when she had accompanied them to the Hospital Wing, something that, despite having seen Ginny's reaction to Fleur first-hand, still shocked him. He stood there for a moment, looking at Fleur before stepping into the kitchen. No matter how much he wanted to play Quidditch he couldn't leave her there.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, his footsteps echoing around the almost silent room, she turned around tearing her eyes away from the window. A small smile spread across her lips as her eyes fell on him but the sadness in her eyes remained, a sadness that Harry was all too familiar with.

"Mind if I join you?" Harry asked as he neared gesturing to the empty chair beside Fleur.

"Of course not, 'Arry," Fleur replied, closing the book that Harry vaguely recognised now that he was closer to it. He was sure that he had seen Hermione reading it before but he had seen her reading more than a few books over the last five years. He sat, his back to the window, aware that just outside the rest of the Weasley's were playing Quidditch with Hermione, if history was anything to go by, watching with mild bemusement on her face as they flitted about the orchard. A part of him wanted to be outside with the others but he didn't move. He couldn't.

He waited a moment before speaking, unsure what to say as he ran his fingers around the plate that he had placed in front of him on the table. Words flitted around his mind, none settling before they escaped him; he had no idea what to say. But he knew that he wanted to say something, anything, to help her, especially after what she had done for him at the Black Lake. It was time he returned the favour. After all, they were friends.

"Fleur, are you alright?"

"I 'ave been worse," Fleur said with a small sigh, running a hand through her silvery hair as she did so. "Eet eez just a leetle boring for me 'ere, 'Arry. I am not zat fond of chickens and cleaning."

"You could play Quidditch with us." Harry suggested, knowing that at least most of the Weasley's would not mind adding to the teams, they had offered Hermione spot often enough. Though, he doubted Ginny would be as welcoming as the others, he had seen and heard just how much she disliked Fleur. Though, he did not know why. "The others won't mind, you could be a chaser on my team."

"Zank you, 'Arry, but I do not get on with brooms." Fleur smiled gently, though it still did not reach her eyes. "Besides, I don't zink Ginny will want me zere. She does not like me. I don't zink I can change zat, 'Arry."

"Why?"

"Zey do not zink he made ze right choice in me."

"But it's his choice," Harry argued, an anger that had been building up over the summer threatening to crash over him, not because of the Weasley's, but because of his venture to the Department of Mysteries. From what Fleur said they hadn't even tried to get to know her. He knew how much their opinion meant to Fleur. She wanted to impress them, or at least be liked by them. But they hadn't even given her a chance from what she'd told him. As much as he didn't want to believe it he knew that Mrs Weasley would be more than protective of her son's, he had seen her mothering anger more than once. But that didn't make it right. "They don't know you."

"In their minds zey do, no matter what I do." Fleur sighed the fight and determination that he had seen all those years ago seemed to have vanished replaced by a tired acceptance. An acceptance that seemed more than a little practised. "Zey are not ze first. Most people zink zey know me because of what I am, 'Arry. My kind, we 'ave a reputation."

"But that's not fair!" A familiar fury reared its head inside Harry's chest because he knew exactly what she meant. Whispers had followed him at Hogwarts and even before then when Dudley had insured he would be alone. Even in the Wizarding World judgments about him before he'd even had a chance to prove them wrong. The fabled Boy-Who-Lived. That was what he was to them, a legend, not a person. All those articles Skeeter had written about him hadn't helped either and with another flurry of interest from the _Prophet _he knew even more whispers would follow him around Hogwarts. He hadn't asked for it, just like Fleur. It wasn't right. They couldn't know her based on her Veela blood but they thought they did anyway.

"No," Fleur agreed, "eet eez not. But I am used to eet."

"You shouldn't have to be, you deserve better." Harry said through gritted teeth, anger bubbling up inside him. But his anger dimmed as Fleur smiled softly at him, for the first time her ice blue eyes glittered.

"Zey really were wrong about you, 'Arry," Fleur said, her smile never fading. "All those stories in ze _Prophet_ and everything I 'eard, zey couldn't 'ave been more wrong. Eet eez a shame I cannot tell zem 'ow wrong zey were, no? Though some of ze stories I 'eard couldn't be true. One girl told me you 'ad killed a Basilisk zat lived in ze castle, zat one kept Gabrielle going for weeks. Eet eez why she was so desperate to meet you, to see ze truth behind all ze stories she 'ad 'eard."

Harry stayed silent, not wanting to correct Fleur on what she had said. He didn't like talking about his so called 'adventures', even with Ron and Hermione he rarely mentioned the parts that they hadn't been present for because the more he had fought Voldemort the darker his memroies became. The Basilisk was a loveable creature compared to what happened in the graveyard but that didn't mean he wanted to talk about it. Everyone who heard those stories thought he was some kind of hero, something far larger than he actually was. It might be selfish but he liked Fleur only knowing snippets of what had happened to him at least then she didn't think of him as a legendary hero, just as her friend: Harry.

He was saved having to say anything by the kitchen door being swung open and Ginny, clutching Harry's Firebolt a grin plastered on her face, hurried in. The grin evaporated as her eyes fell on Fleur, that same anger that Harry had seen a few mornings ago filling them once more. But this time something else lurked under the story surface of her eyes, something that Harry couldn't quite place.

"Ginny?" Harry asked hoping to avert the redhead's gaze noticing that her ears, which were showing due to her ponytail, were turning red faster than he'd ever Ron's go before. No matter how much that familiar anger raised its head once more he tried to keep it down, after all snapping at Ginny would succeed in only annoying her further rather than diminishing her anger.

It took a second for Ginny to realise that he had spoken, her eyes flitting to him after another long moment of being fixed on Fleur who was trying her best to ignore Ginny. "I didn't think I'd find you in here," Ginny said, a chill to her voice, once she had turned away from Fleur as though she couldn't bear to look at her. "I thought maybe Ron had forgotten to tell you."

"I'll be out in a second," Harry grinned, though he doubted it looked anywhere near as genuine as he had intended, before he stood picking up the plate that he had bought down with him. "I'll just wash this up first."

It wasn't the best excuse he had ever used but Ginny nodded anyway, resting his Firebolt against the wall before leaving, the smile that she usually offered him missing from her lips. Harry waited a moment, making sure that the kitchen door was shut and that Ginny hadn't slid an Extendable Ear under it, before turning to Fleur.

"Sorry about her," he muttered lamely, he couldn't think of what else to say. There was nothing he could say because he knew how stubborn Ginny was. Once she had an idea in her mind she rarely let it go. It was something that both she and her brother shared and it had gotten Ron into trouble on more than one occasion. But that couldn't be everything could it? There must be something else other than stubbornness. There had to be. "I've never seen her like this."

"Do not apologise for 'er, 'Arry," Fleur sighed, glancing out of the window, where the Harry knew the rest of the Weasley's were waiting. "You can't control everyzzing, no matter 'ow much you might want to. Do not worry about me, 'Arry, I will be fine. Enjoy your game."

"You could come and watch, you don't have to stay here." Harry said as Fleur reached for the books she had abandoned on the table. He didn't want to leave her alone in the kitchen with no company other than a well-read book. "Hermione won't mind, she's only doing her Charms essay. If a game doesn't distract her I don't think you will. You can cheer for me."

There was a pause, a long moment where Fleur glanced out of the window once more and then back at Harry, as though considering his offer. There was little doubt that Ginny would object later but Ginny didn't want Fleur at the Burrow and Harry doubted anything would change that, no matter how wrong her reasons were. Besides Fleur wouldn't be there to annoy Ginny, she would be there to cheer her friend on. It would make her happier than sitting in the kitchen would.

A faint smile pulled at her lips, "okay, 'Arry. Though I don't zink you need me cheering you on, I 'ave seen you fly, remember?"

"Vaguely," Harry grinned, remembering the one and only time that Fleur had seen him fly, as he picked up the Firebolt that Ginny had left for him before he headed out of the kitchen, Fleur behind him a laugh escaping her lips.

The game, at least for Harry, went spectacularly. Despite the fact that Harry rarely played Chaser he still managed to score more than Ginny, something neither he nor Ron could remember happening before. Ginny was as good as Angelina, if not better, having been taught by her brothers how to play years before she came to Hogwarts. But she had been distracted by Fleur, not because the French witch had been doing anything, but because she was there cheering Harry on something that had caused Hermione to be distracted as well. Though, she had probably been distracted more out of surprise than anything else. Harry hadn't told anyone about his talk with Fleur, the prophecy and Dumbledore's sudden eagerness to teach him had thrown the subject from his mind. But that had changed after his discussion with Fleur that morning.

Now he wanted nothing more than anything to talk about Fleur to Hermione. He had hoped that maybe Fleur was wrong about the Weasley's, about Ginny and Mrs Weasley, but after that morning he knew he was the one that was wrong. But he couldn't understand why Ginny was treating Fleur so badly, some of it might be down to her Veela blood but there was something more. There had to be. How could the family that had welcomed him with open arms treat Fleur like that? It didn't make sense. He couldn't ask Ron because they were his family and he doubted Ron would understand. Hermione was the one who could explain emotions; she had proved that more than once when Harry had gone to her about Cho. Hermione would understand.

He waited for the rest of the Weasley's and Fleur to go into the kitchen, summoned by Mrs Weasley who had spent the previous half an hour cooking for the family, before sitting down next to Hermione who was adding the finishing touches to her Charms essay. A silence drew out around them; the only sounds that could be heard were the muffled grumblings of the gnomes in the hedgerow and the scratching of Hermione's quill on the parchment. Harry said nothing, he knew better than to interrupt Hermione while she was working and he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say, at least, not to begin with.

"Sorry about that Harry," Hermione said, her eyes finally moving off the essay that she had been writing. "I want to get it done before go to Diagon Alley. That way I can find out if what I think matches what we're doing this year. Professor Flitwick told me he would look over anything I've written once we got back. I just hope it's enough."

"You're best in our year Hermione, it'll be enough." Harry grinned as she began to roll up her essay, leaving the part she had just written dangling off the table so as the ink didn't smudge on the rest of the parchment.

"I hope so," Hermione replied with a small smile. That was something that never failed to astound Harry, Hermione was the best in their year by far, yet she always thought what she'd done wasn't enough. No matter how much he told her otherwise. But that wasn't what he'd come to talk to her about.

"Hermione," Harry began, running a hand through his already windswept hair as he tried to control the sudden wave of nerves that had crashed over him. "Can I ask you something?"

She arched an eyebrow, looking at him fully for the first time, as she had been speaking before her eyes had kept shooting towards her essay but now they did not move from his face. "Harry, is this about Fleur?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded after a moment, slightly stunned that Hermione had been able to guess what he was going to ask so quickly. He hadn't told any of them what had gone on between him and Fleur. Though he hadn't exactly made a secret of their friendship, bringing her out to watch them play, it still surprised him. "But how did you -"

"Know?" Hermione asked, smiling gently. "I knew you'd want to talk about her at some point, Harry. It was pretty obvious, Harry. What with how you reacted to Ginny calling her Phlegm and today, bringing her out here, I knew you'd want to talk about it eventually."

"Am I really that easy to read?"

"Only for me, Harry." Hermione replied with a small laugh. "But can I ask you something first?"

"Sure,"

"What happened between you two?" she asked, her voice loosing that joking tone, becoming serious.

"The night Sirius died," Harry began, trying to block out memories of his godfather falling, a haunting smile on his lips, through the veil. He didn't want to think about Sirius. He couldn't. But no matter how hard he tried to block them, flashes of memories flickering across his mind. Bellatrix laughing. Sirius falling. He shook himself and looked back at Hermione, taking a deep, steadying breath. "I went to the Black Lake, after I talked to Dumbledore. I just needed to go somewhere and think about everything."

He paused for a moment, remembering how he had felt on the Black Lake's shore. Never before had he felt so much pain, trapped by his guilt for what had happened to Sirius. He doubted he would have moved at all if Fleur had not appeared. She had been there for him, it wasn't so much what she had said, but more the fact that she had gone looking for him. Though he had never asked her if she had been looking for him he doubted she had just been wandering around the Grounds.

"Anyway, I was by the Lake when Fleur came to talk to me. She should have been in the Hospital Wing with Bill but instead she came to talk to me, Hermione, me. She didn't really know me but she still came. She was there for me when I needed someone. We didn't really say much, I mean, what could she say? But she told me about the Weasley's, how they were treating her. Ron's okay with her but Ginny and Mrs Weasley... I don't get it, Hermione; it's not as if she's done anything wrong."

"Harry, you've got to understand, they're just trying to protect Bill. None of them know that much about Fleur. They're bound to be a bit wary. Mrs Weasley's over-protective as it is, you know that."

"But what about Ginny?" Harry asked, his confusion fading a little around Mrs Weasley's treatment of Fleur, but that didn't mean he liked how she treated Fleur, but he could understand. He'd seen, first-hand, what Mrs Weasley could be like when her children were threatened, when Ginny had disappeared into the Chamber of Secrets she had been beside herself. He knew why. But that didn't make her right. "The way she looks at her, Hermione, I've never seen her act like that before."

"But you've never really seen Ginny, Harry." Hermione said patiently. "Not properly. The only times that you have seen her are when you've been here. You see her as one of Ron's family."

"What's the problem with that?" Harry asked incredulously before she could speak again, still not quite sure what Hermione was getting at. Even if he did group her with the rest of the Weasley's that wouldn't stop him seeing her treat people like she did Fleur. But she never had, even in the DA she had always been friendly with practically everyone, apart from Zacharias Smith. But she hadn't been alone in that. Even Neville, who never had a bad word to say about anyone, had disliked the arrogant boy.

Hermione sighed, glancing at the kitchen door, confliction flitting across her face. Biting her lip she looked back at Harry, wearing a face that he knew all too well. It was the face she'd worn when she had first tried to persuade him into forming the DA and it did even less to settle his unease this time. What could be so bad that Hermione wouldn't tell him?

"Harry," Hermione began, glancing over at the kitchen once again, as though expecting to be interrupted. "Ginny, she... Well she doesn't want me to tell you this but you've got a right to know. She likes you, Harry, and she's been trying to get you notice her for so long but you never have, you just think of her as Ron's sister. And then you start defending Fleur, I don't know if you thought you did but you've made it pretty obvious that you don't like how she treats Fleur, she's jealous that you noticed Fleur and not her."

Harry sat in stunned silence, staring at Hermione. He'd known that Ginny had had a crush on him but he thought she'd gotten over it. But clearly she hadn't. If Ginny was going to tell anyone at the Burrow how she felt it would be Hermione, after all, she wouldn't tell Ron. But if she still liked him then why hadn't she said anything? And why be jealous of Fleur? She hadn't treated Cho like this. But then again she had hardly talked to Cho and when she did it was only in passing, she didn't have to live under the same roof as Cho.

"So that's why she starting talking to me," Harry muttered when he found his voice.

"And why she dated Michael," Hermione added sadly. "To get over you, Harry, or at least try to. Though I think he thought it was more serious than she did."

"Hang on," Harry began, a distant memory tugging at his shocked mind, a memory that had lain forgotten at the back of his mind until that moment. "Didn't she say she was going to date, Dean? On the train, don't you remember? Ron went mental."

"She thinks if she dates someone in our year you'll notice her," Hermione told him with a small sigh. "She thinks that if she's dating Dean you won't see her as just Ron's little sister anymore. So you see, that's why she was so upset, Harry. You didn't notice her."

Harry sat in silence, staring at the unravelled end of Hermione's essay as it flitted about gently in the wind. So that was why Ginny treated Fleur like she did, she was jealous, maybe even thinking that the only reason he had noticed Fleur was because of her looks, after all Ginny didn't know what had happened by the lake. But that didn't excuse what she'd done. It didn't stop the anger that had flowed through Harry earlier that morning. It might explain some things, but it didn't make them right.

"Look," Hermione began, when it was clear that Harry was going to say nothing. "I'll have a word with her, Harry, explain a few things. I can't make any promises but I'll try. You're right about Fleur though, she doesn't deserve it. If you'd asked me last year I might have said something different. Even you have to admit, Harry, she was a bit cold. But, underneath it all, she seems nice."

"Bill wouldn't be with her if she wasn't," Harry said with a grin, a wave of relief washing over him. A small part of him had been scared that Hermione too would be against Fleur. After all, Hermione had been less than welcoming on the first day, though Harry had a feeling he knew why remembering the glare that had flared in Hermione's eyes when Ron had stared openly at Fleur. He might have misread Ginny but he knew his best friends better than anyone.

"True," Hermione smiled back, running her finger lightly against the now dry ink of her essay, testing whether it was safe to roll it up. Then her smile faded a little as she began to roll up her essay, tighter than it had been before. "I thought Ginny was right you know that Bill only liked Fleur for the glamour of it all. Dating a Veela. But when you bought her out here today it got me thinking. So, I talked to her. I think it's the first time in my life I've ever been glad to be wrong."

"Don't let Ron hear you say that," Harry grinned as Hermione slipped her essay away into her bag, a bag that Harry had never seen her without.

"Don't let me hear what?" Ron asked as he appeared in the kitchen doorway, a half-eaten chicken leg clutched in his hand. From his position by the window Harry was sure he heard Mrs Weasley chastise her son for interrupting them, though her words were drowned out by a loud bang as another of Fred and George's forgotten stock went off, much to her shock.

"Nothing, Ron," Hermione said quickly, hurrying to her feet to rushing into the kitchen. Harry tried not to laugh at the startled look on Ron's face as he followed his friend into the kitchen but his thoughts were far away from what food Mrs Weasley had cooked for them. Instead his mind was lingering on what Hermione had said only a few minutes before. He hoped she could get Ginny to come around, though, judging by the glare that Ginny sent Fleur as he sat down her, that wasn't going to happen. He sighed and turned away from Ginny, turning instead to Fleur as he picked food from the table, hoping that he was wrong.


	3. HIATUS

**AN:** This is in response to the many reviews asking if this story will be continued. The answer is, yes, it will be. However, the story that I am currently working on seems to have gone on a bit longer than I intended and that is why I'm not going to be adding to this one in the near future. It will be continued and is not up for adoption. As soon as Fifth Champion, the story that I am currently working on, is finished then I will return to this story. All I can say is sorry and thank you to those of you who have chosen to review or favourite or follow this story and I just hope that you continue to do so once more chapters written and added. Thank you for all the support so far. If anyone has any questions feel free to PM and I will answer them to the best of my ability.


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